


Yours, Mine

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-02
Updated: 2007-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:16:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8710435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: He feels jealousy spread through him...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Title: Yours, Mine

Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)

Rated: NC17

Disclaimer: All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al.

Warning: wincest, slash

Pairing: Sam/Dean

Prompt: jealous!Dean

Notes: For the Porn Battle at LJ oxoniensis. Had to be under 4300 characters. I just barely made it.

Summary: He feels jealousy uncurl in his stomach, spreading through him like a dark sludge that creeps into every pore of his fucking being…

 

 

~*~*~

 

It’s not that Sam is doing anything _wrong_ , and Dean knows it. He knows how unfair it would be of him to get up, walk over there, and throw a punch right in the smiling face of the guy that’s hitting on Sam right at that very second. Sam doesn’t invite the attention, it just sometimes happens.

 

And it never fails to get to Dean. Never.

 

He feels jealousy uncurl in his stomach, spreading through him like a dark sludge that creeps into every pore of his fucking being, followed closely by heat and desire because the best thing to combat jealousy is a nice…hard…fuck.

 

Downing the rest of his beer, Dean lets the bottle slam onto the table a little harder than necessary. Sam looks over and Dean meets his eyes with a warning, an order not to be disobeyed. Even from this far away, Dean can see when the telltale pink flush of arousal creeps up Sammy’s neck. He doesn’t need to be standing next to him to know that Sam’s breathing a little harder now.

 

He might whine about it later, argue that he was just _talking_ with the guy, but Sammy gets off on being the subject of Dean’s jealousy. They both know it. Why fucking play that game?

 

Dean turns without even another look in Sam’s direction, fingers twitching with that rough need to show anyone looking that Sam is _his_. No one knows them here. No one to whisper _but they’re brothers_. He could go over there, grab Sammy’s hand – fuck, even tongue-fuck him right there against the bar – and the most people here would see was that he was a jealous lover.

 

Tempting, yes. More tempting, though, to make Sam come to him.

 

He hears Sam’s footsteps on the gravel lot behind him before he even reaches the car. One hand on the Impala’s door, Dean waits, tenses, knows when Sam is in reach. Turning, he grabs hold of Sam’s shirt, shoving him up against the side of the car. “Enjoy yourself?”

 

“Dean –“ Sam’s voice breaks, hips press up, into the thigh Dean has shoved between his legs.

 

“Looked mighty cozy to me. He offer to take you home with him tonight?” Dean spits, mouth so close to Sam’s now that they could kiss. “That what you want, Sam? Did you like him flirting with you like that?”

 

_No_ comes out more like _nuhhh_ as Sam’s head tips back, that thigh between his legs pressing up just _so_. Dean hides a smirk, does it again and again, a slow circular rhythm of his thigh grinding against Sam’s hard dick. Anyone can walk up and see them like this. The bar isn’t a complete dive and the parking lot is actually well lit for once. A fucking enigma, considering the shit hole town they’re in. 

 

Knowing they could get caught only makes Dean harder, because what it comes down to is that anyone could walk out here _right now_ and see that Sam was with _him_ all along. Not that poser pretty-boy twink back in the bar. 

 

He doesn’t stop Sam when large hands reach between them, shoving at button-flys and zips. Dean hisses, cock almost too-hard when Sam tugs it from his jeans. He feels smooth skin, answering hardness. Looks down in time to see the first full slide of Sam’s cock against his. 

 

Sam’s hands are fucking huge. Big enough that he can wrap his long ass fingers around both of their cocks, holding the shafts as they rub against each other. When Dean’s hips pull back, Sam’s fingers rub just under the swollen head of his cock. Dean lurches forward, letting Sam take over now, their mouths crushing together. He’s muttering against Sam’s lips.

 

“Mine… Sammy… mine…”

 

“Yours,” Sam answers, as simple as breathing. Like there could be no other answer. He kisses the corner of Dean’s mouth, tangles their tongues together when next lips meet. Sam had a shot of tequila earlier in the night, and the taste still lingers on his tongue.

 

With hard, fast strokes, and the ease of a longtime lover, Sam pulls Dean’s climax from him, swallowing down the guttural cry that pours from his lips - _sofuckinggood_ and _burningalive_ and _damnSammyneedyou_. Sam is much less dramatic, stiffening and moaning so soft that Dean barely hears it.

 

“You’ve really got to get over this jealousy thing,” Sam laughs a few minutes later, still breathless, as they fix their pants and get in the car.

 

Dean smirks. Not gonna happen.

 

END


End file.
